“beyond wandpoint” 119b by gingerbred
Mar. 7th, 2020 03:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beyondwandpoint“11 13c Thurs - Up And At Them” Part 2
Severus, Hermione, Staff: Poppy Pomfrey, Nurse Wanda Wainscott, Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Millicent Bulstrode, Harper Hutchinson, Flora Carrow, Róisín Rosier, Ava Avery, Anneliese Burke, Gryffindors: Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Ravenclaws: Michael Corner, Hufflepuffs: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Others: Sunny, Crookshanks, Clotho, Portrait Phineas Nigellus Black, Portrait Salazar Slytherin, Portrait Swaine Swoopstikes, Portrait Wilhelmina Wilkes
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Professor Barrymore Beckford, Professor Call-Me-Terry Taylor, Slytherins: Tracey Davis, Pansy Parkinson, Aaron Avery, Ella Wilkins, Hestia Carrow, Astoria Greengrass, Tomasina Touchstone, Hunter Hutchinson, Wilfred Wilkes, Marguerite Burke, Graham Montague, Urien Urquhart, Gryffindors: Dean Thomas, Dhanesh Devi, Kiera Kilkenny Devi, Ravenclaws: Padma Patil, Morag MacDougal, Terry Boot, Darius Inglebee, Hufflepuffs: Megan Jones, Wayne Hopkins, Zacharias Smith, Others: Maleficent, Ouroboros, Polly
Originally Published: 2020-03-07 on LJ / DW
Chapter: 119 part 2
The original version of this chapter exceeded livejournal's maximum post length. It's been split in two parts.
THIS CHAPTER IS A TWO-PARTER.
**SCROLL DOWN AND READ THE OTHER PART FIRST**. (119a LJ / DW)
Feeling like it's a herculean challenge, Harper clambers from the exercise machine and pulls on his new robe. That at least is nice. With great effort, he drags himself from the Training Room, running terribly late and thoroughly unsatisfied with his workout for the day. He feels like he's crawling across the landing, upright by will alone, as he makes his way to the stairway to the boys' dorms, when he's stopped by a loud shout.
"Mr. Hutchinson!" Swoopstikes cries from the group portrait to the left of the fire. "Curfew is no longer in effect. What do you think you're wearing?"
The answer is 'a particularly lovely robe', clearly, exceedingly flash. He imagines telling the Professor as much won't help matters.
"Swaine..." Wilhelmina Wilkes tries to reason with him.
"No, curfew is over," the Potions Master interrupts her, proud to have gotten that right for once, although the accomplishment is seriously diminished by the fact Salazar had announced it literally only moments ago.
"No one said it wasn't..." Phineas tries to help his friend and fellow portrait, not, of course, that a DADA Instructor of Wilhelmina's calibre tended to need much of that sort of thing, but it seemed the right thing to do. Fitting and proper.
"Salazar just announced it," Swaine almost pleads. Decades of hearing he has no sense of time whatsoever have proven wearing, especially as it was patently true, and yet he's equally certain that it's wrong. The cognitive dissonance is doing his painted head in, he's sure. "I heard him. We all heard him. I'm sure I've got it right this time."
And that he does, just this once. What he's less in the right about are the rules governing student dress in the dorms.
"He's on the landing," Wilhelmina reminds him more softly.
"If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: they can wear whatever they please up there, Swaine," Phineas agrees.
"Please!" Salazar objects. "Within reason."
"Of course," Phineas allows. "Within reason. There's something to be said for them being properly clothed, after all."
"A little decorum," Salazar agrees.
"Only seemly," Phineas nods sagely. Wilhelmina ignores them both. It's funny, sometimes, to see how Phineas had become so... old before his time. He'd been younger than she during their lifetimes. Naturally. She'd been his Head, after all. Sometimes he acts such an old goat. She chooses to frame it as an advantage of dying young as she had (for surely there must be some advantages), not living long enough to become such a tired old stick in the mud. Which doesn't really explain why she's so fond of the man... Probably because he's such fun to beat at chess.
"Which a robe is not. Not seemly in the least," Swaine mutters in frustration.
"The point, Swaine, is that he's on the dais," Wilhelmina explains. "He's allowed to wear the robe there. Remember? They need to be able to wear appropriate togs for training, after all, or do you imagine they should workout in their robes?"
"He's in a robe," he grumbles some more.
"You know full well which robes I meant," she cocks her eyebrow at him, and Phineas marvels at her patience with the man. Swaine seems to consider that for a moment, and looks about to object that he would prefer if they did indeed train in robes, cheers, and she heads him off, "Either way, I believe Mr. Hutchinson is about to go to breakfast and classes, and will no doubt change forthwith. Am I correct, Mr. Hutchinson?"
Harper is half pulling himself up the stairs to the dorms and simply waves over his shoulder, "On it." He can't manage more. The portraits will tire themselves out soon enough. Let them bicker to their pigmented hearts' content as far as he's concerned. It is, however, embarrassing to have them drawing attention to him like that.
He knows he isn't in the best of shape just at the moment, and there are still too many people in the common room for his comfort. He prefers not to be on display that way. The usual group of girls, the ones who are evidently also early risers, are piled on two of the couches, and for some reason Daphne has joined them today, of course she has, which makes it even more embarrassing. Briefly he wishes he'd thought to wear her slippers, he'd hate for her to think he hadn't liked them... He's being silly, really. Daph sometimes brings that out in him, he's not entirely sure why. And he had thought to wear them and had thoroughly appreciated them, they just weren't at all the right thing to have on when using the machines...
Still, it makes him uncomfortable and if he weren't so bloody exhausted he'd have cast a Notice-Me-Not by now. Merlin's beard...
He can just hear Róisín, Ava and Lisa talking as the girls rise and head for the exit. (Not that it registers, but it coincides more or less with the moment his rear is no longer visible from the lounge.) "Where did you find that Charm anyway?" Róisín asks the fourth year.
"One of the step-monster's books," Lisa replies. The fact she's willing to expose her position by referring to the woman in such a fashion in their company reveals she does consider herself amongst friends. Most of the girls know enough to take it as such. Daph gives her an encouraging smile, which softens some of the initial sting when Ava begins laughing.
"Well that explains it," Ava replies through her mirth and managing to explain nothing at all.
"How so?" Lisa is genuinely confused. She may not like the woman, not one iota - her father quite evidently had developed wretched taste by his second marriage - but say what you will, the witch was always perfectly turned out.
Róisín smiles as well, "She's originally from the Indian subcontinent, isn't she?"
"Yes?"
"Surely you can see where her complexion has different requirements than yours." It's almost gentle, and Lisa - whose exceedingly pale skin looks like it never sees the light of day, ever - stands there feeling like a prize fool. "Come on," Róisín encourages her. "It's not so bad. Those charms often aren't universal and they aren't for the ages. We've all made similar mistakes."
Ava laughs once more, "There was the time I tried using my great aunt's book of Beauty Charms..."
Róisín joins in, laughing at the memory, too, "It took me an entire week to undo what she'd done to her hair." She gestures to suggest an ambitious updo. Lisa seems to recall seeing Celestina Warbeck with something like that on one of her album covers.
"Oh, I'm sure it was all the rage in the mid 1800's..." Ava giggles.
And just like that, Lisa doesn't feel quite so stupid anymore. She's smiling again by the time the trio leaves the dungeons.
Harper is working his way down the corridor, wondering if he couldn't just Summon his clothes and books from here, skip his shower, cast a few spells to get cleaned and dressed... Honestly he prefers the shower after his workout; even if he isn't sold on it being better than his Cleansing Charms, it's definitely kinder on his muscles. He assumes he'll be stiff later when the Pain Relieving Potion wears off. But if ever there were a day to make an exception, it's this one. He's not sure he has it in him to faff about getting ready in any protracted fashion today. It's going to be a huge temptation not to just lie down in his bed and not get up again...
He's just gotten past the seventh years' room and is within yards of his own when the screams begin.
Severus stands there frowning as he stares at his, their empty flat. The witch is gone by the time he's finished showering and getting ready. He needn't have hurried. Which now makes it odder to consider that he had...
Hmm.
Vanished without a trace.
Off the angle the bond had suggested, he had expected to find her in their kitchen, and that would be the problem with knowing the direction in which she's located without having any idea of the distance. Thoroughly useless, that aspect of this bond Albus had saddled him with. He has no idea how this is supposed to work in a pinch. Shall he simply travel north until he encounters her? By all means, that's sure to work an absolute treat. Merlin's beard. He scowls at the thought, or perhaps the witch's absence, or possibly his own stupidity for thinking she'd be there in the first place. Waiting. With bells on mayhap. How quaint.
The wards feel different. It should have been patently clear... Except he wasn't really paying attention to them, was he?
No, he hadn't been. At this hour, there was a great deal of traffic out of the dungeons, and he'd given himself leave to ignore all of it until he absolutely needed to do otherwise. The bond is exhausting enough, as is. He just hadn't the energy to... No, that's not true. He'd chosen not to waste energy on that. But even without paying the wards much attention it's obvious now he considers them that they feel... off. As thought the room were a tick... cooler when she's gone. He just hasn't learnt to firmly associate that feeling with... her.
Yet.
Of course he hadn't been paying much attention to feelings either. She was annoyed about something - but then isn't she almost always, or if not that, then embarrassed or disappointed or sad or amused, it's always something - and he'd done his level best to ignore it without resorting to Occluding. Although it had been tempting...
He sighs, standing there pinching the bridge of his nose.
Perhaps he should have said something? They hadn't made... arrangements, he hesitates to call them 'plans'. He and the absent witch do not make plans.
Clearly.
Well, except for the times they had...
But she'd been disappointed when he returned home. He'd permitted their innocuous exchange of pleasantries to fool him that perhaps he'd misread that disappointment, misinterpreted its cause. Hmm. He is and ever will be an ass on that front. It's discomfiting to realise he hasn't changed in that regard since his own adolescence.
And now he has to avoid thinking about how very, very, very long ago that was... Brilliant.
He may just have sighed once more.
But then if this is the way she wants to handle it... She'd been uncomfortable after all, perhaps he'd returned too early or she hadn't anticipated it... He certainly isn't going to request she accompany him if she doesn't wish to. The last thing he wants to do is force her do something against her will, there'd been more than enough of that, and certainly not merely for his sake... Which begs the question why accompanying him to meals would be for 'his sake'. Why? Because it's odd, this avoiding one another. Simply not how it's done, not in public, and apparently he's the only one who thinks so, so: yes, apparently it was for his sake. Or would have been. Which is bloody disconcerting.
Hmm.
Consideration aside - because he's tired of being considerate towards a creature who evidently hadn't spared him a second thought this morning- from a perfectly pragmatic standpoint, he has no intention whatsoever of subjecting himself to the humiliation of her reaction if she doesn't wish to join him in the first place. Because the damnable bond will make that abundantly clear, ta muchly.
And so oddly, once again, he feels vaguely reminded of his school days for some reason or another. As it hadn't been a particularly pleasant time for him, he chooses neither to dwell on it nor to explore the thought. Merlin.
He takes advantage of the witch's absence to go to the bowl that's set to gather the half-Kneazle's fur. Now that he thinks of it, so far the tatty thing hasn't put in an appearance this morning, which he believes he finds strange. He's never had a feline of his own before, so he isn't altogether decided. He runs his fingers through the incredibly soft fluff. It really would make the most lovely scarves; perhaps he should suggest such a thing to Mrs. Figg after all. A scarf, he thinks he could see his way clear to wearing, but he must draw a line somewhere, and he most assuredly isn't going to don a knitted cap. He Summons the bit of vellum he'd noted the Fur Banishing Charm on, it's best to have it at hand, and without unfolding it to check his notes first, he makes a test run of the Charm. The wand flare is perfect, just as expected, and thus reassured, he Finites the Charm connected to the bowl and then performs it on the whole of their quarters, setting it to gather every last bit of fur and send it directly to Crabbe's bed. He smiles as he does so.
A Wingardium Leviosa sends the bowl to the sink; he prefers not to contemplate why he seems to be practising that particular Charm instead of using a Depulso. Placing the bowl in the sink is a compromise. He'd have preferred to clean it himself and return it to the shelf, a reflection of his professional training, but he's learnt not to anger his elf unnecessarily over the years.
Which reminds him... "Sunny," Severus calls.
The elf appears silently beside him before he's finished speaking the second syllable. "Yes, oh Master of Potions, Sir, oh marvellous Master of..."
"I take it you have assorted Charms for managing pet fur." The elf nods enthusiastically, and Severus continues before Sunny can get another word in edgewise. "So you are able to detect its presence in small quantities?" More nodding. "There's been an issue last night with my efforts to..." He's unsure how to phrase it diplomatically.
"Master wants fur in Crabbe's bed?" Well he'd no doubt just heard him Banish it there, so there's little point denying it.
"Yes. I expected Crabbe and his allergies to put in an appearance in the Infirmary this morning; they did not. Somehow the arrangement did not work quite as planned. Either he's now learnt magic to deal with the situation - while long overdue, nevertheless unlikely - negotiated with one of the others to perform it for him or change beds with him, or slept elsewhere altogether." Although he personally can't imagine one of the girls would be willing to have the trog, but then there's no accounting for taste. "What I'd like, if you're able, is for you to attempt to keep an eye on the situation, to try to see where it went wrong. Then I'll be able to adjust accordingly." He'd considered Banishing the fur to all of the boys' beds on spec, but it would reduce the dosage and increase the chances someone else would help the bounder. Best to understand what was going on and then adjust accordingly. Conceivably a Geminio before Banishment... Not that it has anywhere near the efficacy, never mind the staying power, but if he did it immediately before he went to bed... Hmm. Worth a think.
Sunny is ever so pleased to have an assignment, and after a flurry of 'thank you's and 'Master, Sir's, off he pops, more or less literally.
Severus goes to his desk, intent on entering the Fur Banishing Spell from the vellum into his notebook, and there are two scrolls of parchment waiting for him there. If he doesn't very much miss his guess, it should be two of the boys' assignments, and he once again plans to look them over before destroying them. He takes a seat, retrieves the notebook from its hidden compartment in the bottom drawer and gets to work. He soon makes the notations, updating the index, returns the little book to the drawers and strengthens their wards; none of it takes long. He has just finished Incendioing the original parchment - overkill, but a force of habit - and started on Goyle's CMC work when a certain half-Kneazle appears by his side. "Ah," he says, leaning over to better see it. "So you haven't vanished after all."
Crooks 'mrawrs', and winds himself between Severus' legs, exerting a surprising amount of pressure in the process. The animal is clearly stronger than he looks.
"Skrewts!" Severus laughs as he scans the page before him. "He has them doing Skrewts again!" Crooks seems suitably appalled, and encouraged, Severus continues, "It'll be a wonder if any of them pass their N.E.W.T.s at this rate. He isn't preparing them for the exams at all." That's indisputably true, however a cogent argument can be made that if they survive Hagrid's N.E.W.T. Level Care of Magical Creatures course, the students should be ready to deal with almost anything. Sometimes examinations don't provide the best measurement of those skills.
Severus is about to Incendio Goyle's scroll, amusingly Taylor now comes briefly to mind as he raises his wand, when the moggie mews. He looks down to his feet, and the thing's eyes seem to have grown three times their original size, and then it mews some more. Severus pauses, and he couldn't really explain his actions if pressed, but in a moment of inspiration, he crumples Goyle's work into a little ball and tosses it towards the animal. Crooks pounces with abandon, batting it about with great speed and unexpected coordination and Severus chuckles. "Just see to it there's nothing left of it when you've finished," he tells him. "It wouldn't do to have your mistress discover any scraps."
Somehow Crooks' 'mrawr' in reply strikes Severus as reassurance, and he feels a little less foolish about their rather one-sided conversation. Although... There is something to be said for the creature's silence. It's a marked contrast to...
As luck would have it, Sunny reappears at just that very moment, vibrating with excitement much like a certain Gryffindor tends to.
"Master! Oh, Master! Oh, Master of Potions, Sir! Oh! Sir!"
"Sunny?" Sometimes just listening to the elf is exhausting.
"The fur in Crabbe's bed! Is this all Sunny is to be watching, Sir? Nothing else?" The elf's vibrations have improbably increased in frequency and Severus has a bad feeling about this. There's presumably a scale for that, some ratio of vibrations to degree of catastrophe... He'd frankly rather not know.
He pinches the increasingly tender bridge of his nose and weighs his options. "Are they harming anyone else?" He'd sent Sunny to the seventh years' room, after all. He takes the 'they' for a foregone conclusion.
Sunny mulls that over as he stands there wringing his hands with barely contained excitement, finally he shakes his head, "Noooo."
"Are they plotting to harm anyone else?" The response is the same, and Severus pauses to consider: why is the elf so eager? "Are they going to do so inadvertently?" The elf's 'Noooooooo's are getting longer. "Then I believe at this point, yes, that's all I wish to hear on the matter." Sunny knows him too well to look gobsmacked, although a bit of disappointment is apparent. Well, join the club. It seems to be the morning for it.
The chances someone won't bring whatever the problem is to Severus' attention, and soon, are sadly near nil. It does, however, make him decide to eat in, just to be on the safe side. He owes himself that.
But presumably he'll also be closer to hand if needed.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-03-14 12:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-03-23 09:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-03-24 12:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-06-14 03:27 pm (UTC)I love the way you write elves more than almost anything, and that's saying something.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-10-02 05:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-12-29 05:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-03-05 09:15 pm (UTC)I am also enjoying the miscommunication over intentions that the bond seems to provide. They each fill in the blanks, and do so poorly. I hope they will have a good laugh about it all one day :D
(no subject)
Date: 2021-09-24 02:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-09-24 08:52 am (UTC)However! Talking has merit. As such, for a quick fix, I'll direct you to "happy christmas, severus" the fifth instalment in my "christmas spirit [index]" series (Hogwarts 8th year, Hermione has just graduated and started an apprenticeship, Severus and Lavender survived the war). If you have a little time, I'd start with "christmas spirit", which sets things up. In fact, if you like my Slytherins, I can recommend the whole series. The next story starts next week and ties all of those storylines together in a way that should definitely appeal to anyone who likes wandpoint, even though Severus and Hermione aren't front and centre. It's much more of an ensemble piece.
Or! And this is extremely niche, but off your username you might get some amusement from my 2019 lego advent calendar fic, which was a weird experiment that just sort of happened... It morphed into spontaneous fic and spawned robust (talk-filled 😉) epilogues. The whole recipe series of shorts over there is based on talking happening, as is the tea drabble series which evolved from a friend sending me pics of their lego minifigs. (I said "niche", right?) I think you'd like the third of those, but as the other two are so short and set it up... But that reminds me I should have a tidy up over there and add some of my newer material. I'll try to see to it once I get the next christmas spirit story up...